AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just wanted to let all the wonderful, supportive readers who have been kind enough to review that there is a little fic-let posted just for them. It's to compensate for how badly I've been treating Grell in this story- so if you think you might enjoy something lighter and less demented, please check out "Purrfect Love". Thank you for all your reviews and support. It really makes my day brighter to hear what you have to say. It is why I continue to write.
Commodities: Chapter 11
It was late morning by the time Sebastian came to collect Grell. Mist still clung to the landscape in gauzy layers, making a slow dance of weak sunlight as it alternately let it peek through and shut it out. The light breeze carried the earthy scents of soil and mountain grasses through the air, adding a sense of ethereal innocence to the jagged land. To those unaware of the numerous demons flitting through the crags where fog lingered, it would have seemed magical.
Sebastian didn't bother announcing himself at the gate, opting for the more covert return through the parapet tower hall. He leapt gracefully onto the turret, walking along the exposed walkway and into the narrow wooden door at the far end. A flight of winding stairs later, he found himself in the southern hedge garden, surrounded by finely manicured shrubbery and trickling fountains.
He walked swiftly through, following the most direct of the meandering paths. The garden was designed for the wandering walker, with trails that swayed this way and that around the plants and sculptures, destination unknown and unimportant. The beauty was in the journey, something which neither Sebastian nor Skoll fully understood. The difference between the two demons, however, is that Skoll commissioned the garden to study the idea of it, journey rather than destination that is. But even that was somewhat of a farce, as he took the whole project through to completion in less than a month. The ever important end result being the garden which was supposed to make him better understand not always seeking the end result. It was a terribly ironic emulation of human philosophy.
As Sebastian cut through the center courtyard of the garden, he saw Skoll enter from the opposite side. The fair haired demon walked towards him smoothly, confident in his home turf advantage, should his dark haired counterpart wish to fight.
Sebastian continued towards Skoll as well, though he slowed his pace to hide the impatience in his stride. He was not interested in anything other than leaving with what he came for, vowing never to return to the castle or Skoll for any reason. Another lesson learned well past its prime.
"Shadow," Skoll called. The tone was deceptively friendly, just one more reminder that the demon lord was unconcerned about the entire situation, "I expected you hours ago. What has kept you away?"
There were a number of words that flew to the forefront of his thoughts, none of which he wanted to share with Skoll. Embarrassment, procrastination, anger, and frustration led the list quick firing through his mind. But he let the familiar smiling mask slide into place and replied, "I was just enjoying the view."
Skoll knew he was lying, but didn't care enough to call him out. In the battle for dominance, he had won absolutely. What did it matter if the other didn't want to admit defeat? "It is a beautiful morning."
"I've come for the reaper," Sebastian said, weary of the small talk he knew Skoll would want to trap him in. Small talk designed to cow him farther, twisting and interjecting small pricks of insult with seemingly innocent topics. "And I trust that you've upheld your end, correct?"
Skoll smile, eyes glinting in the wan daylight, "Yes Shadow, I've kept my part of the bargain. Your reaper is alive, he will do what he's told and he now possesses the knowledge to aid you in your foolish endeavor."
Foolish? It took Sebastian a minute to admit to himself that yes, the whole thing was a mishandled mess of stupidity. It was exactly how Relana wanted it to be, humiliating and difficult. He tore himself away from his thoughts. Skoll didn't need to realize just how frustrated he was, "Where is he?"
"Sleeping, I believe," Skoll swallowed an inappropriate chuckle, "He seemed quite exhausted after our time together."
"I would expect so," Sebastian replied flatly. "I would like to be on my way, if it is all the same to you. The witch is rather impatient."
"And to think all this time I thought you left us so you could call the shots." Skoll shook his head slowly, "How you disappoint me."
Sebastian ignored him, "You need not escort me, I know the way."
"I know you do. I wasn't planning on accompanying you." Skoll moved past him slowly, clasping his hands behind his back with a casual air, "Goodbye then. I don't believe we will see each other again."
"I hope that is the case," Sebastian replied absolutely, "I should not have come back to this place."
"Probably so," Skoll sighed, disappearing around the corner hedge behind him, "Again, goodbye."
Sebastian opened the door to Skoll's room without hesitation, silently slipping past the threshold. He was surprised to find the room completely black. No candle was lit to chase the shadows back. "Grell?" he called softly, stepping into the dark solitude. He knew the reaper was there. He could feel his presence clearly, even though he couldn't hear even the softest breathing.
When the other didn't respond, Sebastian flicked his wrist sending a candle on the night table alight, sputtering against the wax caked on its stubby wick. Its golden glow revealed the top of Grell's head, peeking from beneath the thick brown brocade of the comforter. His hands lay beside the tousled locks of hair, delicate fingers loosely curled in sleep. Tight gauze wrapped around one palm conspicuously; the first hint of what the flirtatious reaper had endured.
Sebastian stood beside the bed, looking down at his slender companion with a sad expression on his face. He still didn't feel guilty, but there was a growing sense of remorse tugging just below the surface. Giving Grell up had been more difficult than he had expected, and with it behind him he wished he had chosen a different path. Obnoxious as the reaper was, he hadn't done anything to warrant the sort of treatment Sebastian was sure he received. As Sebastian moved to touch, Grell's uninjured hand shrank beneath the blankets, unreceptive.
"Grell?" he asked quietly, noting how Grell's body tensed at the sound of his name. Sebastian was trying to be considerate, to be gentle, knowing that Grell was in a very fragile state, but the redhead seemed to be playing dead. If he was asleep he was an amazing listener in his repose.
Sebastian hooked one hand beneath the blankets, pulling it down around so he could see Grell's face. Fragile or not, he wanted to get going. This act would only be endured for so long. However angry Grell was, it would pale in comparison to Sebastian's anger if Skoll and his companions decided to keep them there. Or more specifically if they chose to keep Grell; none of them wanted Sebastian around.
Even in the flickering light of the single candle, the bruises on the reaper's face were obvious, they stood out against his pale skin like blossoms of purple ink, tracing over one cheek accusingly before bleeding over his swollen and split lip. As he pulled the covers down farther, more injuries glared up at him in stark accusation. Bite marks and cuts interspersed with bruising finger marks where Grell had been held too tightly, gave Sebastian a very clear picture of what transpired during the night. What he assumed was the particularly bad wound high on Grell's chest was expertly bound in white bandaging, wrapped several times over the crest of his shoulder and secured with a few long loops over his ribs.
Most of the injuries were self explanatory, but the ones which had actually been treated concerned him. He knew they weren't life threatening, but he was curious how they happened. Yes, curious was a much better word than concerned. He wasn't really concerned, "What happened?"
Grell slid his eyes open, revealing that he was indeed awake. The languid flutter of rousing was completely absent, covered by a critical glower. He had simply been waiting for Sebastian to ask something stupid like that.
"What do you think happened?" He asked softly, voice hovering somewhere between coy and neutral. That tone which played with anger but never actually fired it upon its victim, patiently awaiting that person to bring it upon themselves instead. He glanced over himself with evident knowledge. It wasn't as if he hadn't been there while each mark was made, "It looks obvious enough to me."
Sebastian bit back a stinging retort; opting instead to change the subject. It really was quite obvious after all, in the general sense, "Skoll said you're prepared to-"
Grell lifted his good hand, twisting the wrist back and forth to jingle a short length of chain attached to a heavy metal cuff. How had Sebastian missed that? "The book is on the nightstand and I am, for all intensive purposes, bound until this is over."
Well that was that. All that was left was to get to Relana's island and put Ciel Phantomhive back together. After that, everyone would be free of everyone else. Sebastian would be free of Relana, Grell would be free of him, and Ciel would be free of the contract and would incredibly get another chance at life. When it was put into those terms, it looked to be such a fairy tale. However, everyone involved knew otherwise. This was a nightmare, orchestrated by a witch who didn't even realize it. Not that she would have cared to know.
"Then let us leave, Grell." Sebastian said, offering a hand to the prone reaper.
Grell looked at the hand passively, but made no move to take it, "I don't want to."
Sebastian knit his brows quizzically. After all that, Grell didn't want to leave? That just made no sense at all. If anything, Sebastian figured Grell would be begging to leave, even if it was with the one who trapped him to begin with. There was no way he wanted to hand around with the possibility of more torture to come.
Grell caught his confused look, "I do, want to leave." He corrected, "But I don't want to move."
Ah, that made more sense, "We'll take it slow. After we get out of the mountains we can-"
"I'm not getting up," Grell said with finality, "I'm tired, I hurt- everywhere, and the last person on this Earth I want to be around right now, is you."
"I see," Sebastian said, picking up the book on the nightstand. He flipped through the leather bound pages, not really making a point to read so much as catch a few words which would assure him that this book was indeed the one Grell needed. When he was satisfied, he tucked it into his vest where it would be safe.
Sebastian considered just carrying Grell out, but thought coercion might be the better route. It had worked well enough to get him that far and if he did the right things, in the right order, he might yet salvage Grell's obedience beyond what Skoll had ensured. In his mind it would always be better to have someone do things for him because they wanted to, rather than because they were being forced to. Not to mention that in delicate situations which involved putting him in a very vulnerable position with someone like Grell, tempering the hairpin trigger between love and hate was paramount.
Sebastian sat down beside Grell, catching the reaper's cuffed hand swiftly, lest the other pull it away, "I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing the open palm gently.
Grell was shocked. So shocked in fact, that he didn't pull his hand away immediately and watched in silence as Sebastian brought his bandaged hand to his lips as well, kissing the palm very lightly before moving to his wrist and kissing it as well.
"I didn't mean for this to happen," Sebastian continued, bringing both hands to his chest and he leaned forward, dangerously close to Grell's bruised face. He touched his forehead to the young death god's, looking straight into those hurt green eyes imploringly, "I should have never left you behind."
He then reached for Grell's lips with his own, drawing him into a deep but gentle kiss. He was wary of the fresh cuts which laced the other's mouth, keeping the pressure light even as his tongue explored the moist cavern passionately.
Grell responded to the kiss, arching up slightly to bring the demon closer. For a moment he forgot about glaring wounds that covered his body, he forgot about the terrible marks on his face. There was just the kiss between them while everything else fell away like the rain on the clear glass of a window.
Sebastian smirked against Grell's mouth, drawing back as he let his concerned face take precedence once more. The reaper was falling for it, despite everything; Grell was melting into him like nothing had happened. He just needed to cinch the deal shut.
"I should have been the one to take you, last night." Sebastian purred, closing his eyes for the start of another kiss.
Grell made a small distressed sound, pushing himself into the bed as he loosed his hands from Sebastian's grip. In the swift motion that followed, he sent his good hand flying, slapping Sebastian solidly across the face.
Sebastian sat up, cupping a hand to his stung cheek as he looked down at the seething redhead. What had just happened? One minute everything seemed to be on track and the next… Well the next, Grell was looking at him with daggers of hate and he was feeling the raw ping that came from being slapped.
"Is that all you bastards think about?" He hissed, pushing himself up against the pillows as his eyes dared Sebastian to respond. "Is that all I'm good for? Fucking and fixing your damn problems?"
Inwardly, Sebastian was thinking that yes, those were probably the two most useful things Grell was good for. He wouldn't have put it in those blunt terms, and he wouldn't have considered the 'fucking' part unless someone one else was doing it, seeing as he had no interest. And yet, he scrambled for an answer.
As it turned out, he didn't need one. Grell grabbed the edge of the blankets and threw them back in one wide sweep, revealing the rest of his naked, damaged self to Sebastian, who was still trying to process the situation with some sort of logical rationale, "If that's what you want, then take it Sebby. I'm right here." Grell said, voice cracking and laced with bitterness. "Just use me, you're so good at it."
"Grell," he began softly, moving to touch the other's face. This was so silly, even for someone as passionate and hopeless as he.
But the reaper grabbed his wrist half way to his face, "But believe me, Sebastian Michaelis, this will be the last time I ever offer myself to you."
Was that a threat? Or maybe it was a promise? Or perhaps it was just an angry defiant statement. Whatever it was, Sebastian didn't like it at all. He was doing his best to at least pretend he cared, to salve the angry wounds he had allowed to be inflicted. Was he not being kind, was he not being sensitive to Grell's fragile feelings, even though there was no real reason to be other than his personal aesthetics for conducting business? Fine, if that was how the reaper wanted to play his cards, then just fine.
Sebastian twisted out of Grell's grip easily, rising from the bed as he allowed his cold mask to fall back into place. If the reaper wanted to misuse the charity of compassion Sebastian was giving him, so be it. Picking up the neatly folded clothes which had been placed on the chair beside the nightstand, he casually tossed them onto the bed, "Get dressed."
Grell looked at the clothes in distaste. They weren't his clothes, HIS clothes were ruined, "Aren't you going to fuck me, Sebby?" he growled, anger evident, opening his legs suggestively.
"No, I'm not," Sebastian said evenly, situating himself in the chair, "Get dressed or I will hold you down and dress you myself."
"Why not?" Grell yelled. With the emotions roiling in him, he knew he should be getting ready to cry, but no tears threatened to fall.
"Because I don't want to, Sutcliff. I don't want to fuck you." Sebastian said testily, "Furthermore, if you really must know, I kissed you because I wanted you to help me. But I think you know that already. I have no interest in you or any man for that matter- and yes, you are a man, no matter how you choose to refer to yourself."
For a moment Grell was speechless. What the demon had said was worse than being abandoned, worse than the actual rape. It was rejection with irrevocable malice. Grell realized Sebastian was using him the moment he stepped out of the room last night, but this cut so much deeper. He had assumed that there was at least some small bit of attraction, of lust, between them. But he had been wrong.
"So for the record, I don't care to be around you either. You are a pest and while I need your service, I do not need your attitude." Sebastian was getting angry. He had tried to play the role Grell was so used to seeing, but without a contract to back it up, the façade was much thinner, "Get dressed."
What had been hot anger crumbled to tepid sadness at Sebastian's outburst. As much as he wanted to lash back at the man who mistreated him so terribly, the words just wouldn't come out. They clung to his windpipe, squeezing the breath from his lungs without allowing him to make a sound.
Grell grabbed the white undershirt from the top of the pile with a shaky hand, pulling it over his head awkwardly. His wounds protested sharply as he raised his arms up, severed flesh sliding ungraciously against itself. If he wasn't careful it would start bleeding again, and he doubted Sebastian wanted to redress it. The plain white dress shirt followed, buttoned slowly despite Grell's practiced hand at dressing himself. His hurt hand felt stiff and awkward trying to hold the little white buttons.
When it came time for the brown slacks he grimaced, turning himself to sit on the edge of the bed as he pulled them up. He paused mid-thigh; that was as far as they'd go without him actually getting up. He flexed both hands nervously in his lap, looking down at the short row of buttons there. He felt a little sick as it was, and everything 'down there' was still feeling the repercussions of being violated. Standing seemed out of the question.
With a half lift, he balanced his weight against the edge of the bed with his thighs, scooting the slacks over his lean hips. The motion caused his stomach to roll dangerously, threatening to loose its contents. Not that there was much, if anything, in there for him to throw up. Grabbing his nearby shoes by the laces he dragged them over and also pulled them on. The one familiar item on his body. With his legs dangling off the bed he stretched back onto his side, using his arm as a pillow as he waited for the nausea to pass. He wasn't sure why he was feeling so ill.
Sebastian glanced over to the newly dressed death god, mouth set in a grim line. He stewed in his own uncomfortable situation, mentally adding Grell to part of the problem rather than the solution, "If you're finished dressing, I would like to go."
"Sebby please," Grell whined softly, "I don't feel well. Can we please, I don't know…"
"Don't call me that," he warned in reply, rising from the chair, "And I don't care."
As Sebastian rose, Grell pushed himself up from the bed, teetering on shaky legs. He did his best to maintain a glare, but he was certain that he looked more haggard than anything. His entire body was in revolt over getting up, stings and aches mixed with a nauseous vertigo which threatened blackout. It only took three short steps for it to make good on its threat.
Grell's eyes fluttered as he crumpled forward, hovering just outside consciousnesses. With buckling knees; he just fell.
Sebastian moved to his side quickly, not registering the reflexive maneuver until Grell's limp body was clasped close to his chest. The shinigami's arms hung at his sides, testament that he had not tried to catch himself. His knees flexed as Sebastian tried to hoist him back to his feet unsuccessfully, finally just scooping the fragile young death god into his arms, "You nuisance."
Grell felt deceptively light in his arms as Sebastian carried him through the castle halls. One arm cradled his bony shoulders while the other hooked beneath his knees. He carried Ciel this way hundreds of times and though Grell was undeniably an adult, it felt much the same. He kept the delicate body tilted against him so that Grell's head rested against his shoulder and his arms lay tucked between them. He had to be careful about the long curtain of Grell's hair. He could feel it brushing against his knee as he walked, and it wouldn't take much to trip and fall.
From the shadowy doorways and side halls, he could feel eyes upon him. Demons wondering about the one who returned in butlers' livery watched him pass with curiosity in their unearthly eyes. With the red reaper in his arms they weren't sure what to make it. Shadow was different, but they had never known him to keep such eclectic company. If the protective way he carried the reaper was to be an indicator, it seemed he was not so much food as friend. Sebastian let them think what they would; he just wanted to be gone.
Thunder growled in the distance as Sebastian flew down the narrow trail along the cliff edge, covering ground with the fleet grace of his demonic namesake. Well, not a namesake so much as an easy moniker given to him decades ago. Either way, he was much more than Shadow ever was. Though he was not entirely sure he was strictly Sebastian any longer, either.
The dotty sun from the morning was swept away by the brooding clouds which muscled their way from the north, eager to loose their fury upon the craggy landscape. Storms didn't mess around here; they were always a testament to nature's ability to beat down its own creation with water and electricity, howling its discontent with wind that could rip flesh from bone.
The rain started to fall just before he reached the base of the mountain, pattering lightly for only a few minutes before thrumming into a downpour. It pelted the demon as he moved swiftly over the worn wagon road leading back to the small village, soaking him in minutes. The reaper was a little drier, protected by the incline of Sebastian's body as he ran. In the back his mind, Sebastian was growing more and more concerned about Grell's condition. Despite the chilling air and now the cold rain, the reaper in his arms showed no sign of rousing. Not even true exhaustion should have been so absolute.
Trees dotted the roadside heavily and Sebastian took the opportunity to duck beneath the cover of the foliage in hopes that the first wave of rain would let up soon. It wasn't much farther to the village, but the weather was getting bad enough that even he was having a hard time seeing the road ahead. In the open the rain fell so hard that it seemed to bounce, flying upward with as much force as it had coming down. It was a true Romanian storm.
Sebastian leaned against the thick trunk of a beech tree, sinking down to let some of Grell's weight rest on his thighs. It wasn't that he was tired so much as it was the rain. It did things to him, just as the ocean could. It was strange how nature's tears could alter his state; bring him down to Earth so absolutely. Like silver bullets it shot burning holes through his demonic armor, leaving him weak and vulnerable, so close to human.
He looked down at Grell, genuine worry finding a foothold in the pit of his stomach. He looked pale in the gray light allowed through the thick canopy. The bruises only added to the severe contrast, making him look beautiful and ugly at once, damaged. Sebastian brushed Grell's damp scarlet bangs away from his eyes, drawing back silently as the reaper opened his eyes.
Grell could feel Sebastian's strong arms around him, warm despite the rain falling upon them both. He could feel the subdued wind against his clammy skin, chilling even through the shield of trees around them. He shivered and tucked closer to the demon, sadness and distrust cast aside for warmth. He searched Sebastian's eyes for an answer, any answer to any question. He looked for something to latch on to as he felt his existence spinning down to a mire of self hate. Why was it like this? Why was he so unappreciated, not just by Sebastian, but by almost everyone he encountered? What made him so unlikable, so annoying? Was his nature truly so intolerable that he was undeserving of the smallest bit of companionship?
He was surprised to see Sebastian looking back at him softly, sadly. His jet black hair hung heavily about his face, dark spikes dripping with the tears of the sky, falling gently from the tips as the water coursed down from the crown of his head. His skin looked wan and cold, but held an angelic quality not unlike the flawless porcelain of a doll. It was a quality which amazingly did not detract from his undeniable masculinity. Even as Grell's soul bled from wounds carved deep by the demon, he couldn't help but want to fall farther, fall again, and maybe this time he would be saved, rather than left to crash. Tears which he thought he had lost welled quietly, falling with the rain that struck and pooled before falling in thin rivulets, unobserved.
As much as he wanted to understand why Sebastian had left him to the mercy of the merciless, he had a confession that he felt the other needed to hear. He didn't know why it was so important he knew, it seemed unlikely that he would even care.
"Sebby, last night…" He started, voice catching as he stifled a sob. He couldn't even say it.
With a heavy sigh, Sebastian pulled Grell closer, tucking his head beneath his chin. Looking at the reaper made him feel better and worse at once and it was making his stomach ache. He pulled his free hand around to tangle in Grell's wet hair in an effort to silently convey his guilt, and to apologize.
"Last night," Grell said quietly, finding it easier to speak now that Sebastian couldn't see him, "Was my first time, doing that."
Sebastian let his eyes slide shut, wanting the darkness to swallow the truth of Grell's statement entirely. He knew the reaper hadn't had a lot of experience, but he had assumed at some point, with someone, surely, "What about Madame Red?"
It was a vain attempt to absolve himself and he knew it. He could feel a sad smirk tremble against him as Grell nuzzled against his chest, hiding as best he could, "It wasn't that sort of love, Sebby. Even you could realize that."
Silence settled between them and lasted for several minutes. Thunder growled overhead and the rain continued its loud rushing sound all around them, pattering where it hit foliage on its descent. The noise made the thoughts of both reaper and demon languid; easing the transitions between them, quieting some of the more difficult emotions each was feeling.
It was Sebastian who finally broke the silence, tilting Grell's head back gently to look at him, "I am so sorry."
"Sebby, why-" Grell started, unsure of Sebastian's poignant change. Why had he been so harsh before? Why had he let it happen to begin with? He hushed as Sebastian's cool fingers touched his lips.
"I wish I could take it all back," the demon continued, "And though I cannot love you, I will try to be what you need me to be, to repair what I have broken."
Grell wanted to be angry. He wanted to scream and fight with all the fury of his pain. He wanted to defy the sweet apologies Sebastian was giving him with all his might, breaking the false words like glass, sending the shards back at the man who dared utter them to him. But he no longer had the fight in him. He was weak and he had already suffered enough; not just at Sebastian's hands, but each time he had put his heart on the line, only to have it sent back in pieces. He didn't want to play the coy and confident hunter and he didn't want to be the vicious killer. He just wanted what underneath he had always wanted, to be loved. If only Sebastian meant what he said; it wasn't love, but in his estimation it was close enough.
As if sensing Grell's trepidation, knowing how many times he had guised the truth in a tight web of omission and word play, Sebastian leaned in close, touching Grell's nose with his own. The rain fell from Sebastian's hair to Grell's in quick drops, mingling black and red strands as the water closed the gap between them.
"Please believe me," Sebastian breathed, pulling him up into a loving kiss. Unlike the kisses before, it asked permission to have and taste the other. It did not demand, it did not dominate, it simply existed for its own sake, to please the other. It said thank you, it begged forgiveness and it was the pledge of appreciation. Grell had been there to help him, suffered for his needs, had lost precious things because of him, and deserved at least that much in return; I acknowledge your sacrifice on my behalf, thank you, I'm sorry.
Grell hesitantly brought his bandaged hand up to snake around Sebastian's neck, he believed him, if for no other reason than to call it a lie was to lose all hope. He felt Sebastian pull him closer, deepening the kiss with sweet ferocity. It was exactly what Grell wanted, what he needed to feel okay.
When Sebastian broke the kiss, Grell felt the blood stop cold in his veins. The possibility of it being more of the same, more of Sebastian's serpent tongue winding him up to get what he wanted struck like ice within him. He felt himself ready to die right there, in the arms of his unrequited love, crushed as surely as stone beneath a sledge.
Sebastian felt him stiffen in jagged apprehension and kissed his upper lip reassuringly as he hooked his arm back beneath Grell's knees and rose, "Settle yourself, I'm just getting us out of the rain."
And with that they were off again, leaping through the woods towards the village on the other side. The road may have been a bit faster, but the protection afforded by the trees was worth the extra distance.
Grell kept his arms locked around Sebastian's neck for balance as he looked ahead, amazed at the agile way the demon sailed over the leaf littered, forest floor. He changed direction easily, commanding perfect balance over rocks and tree roots alike, dancing with his dark precision against nature's green bosom. It was beautiful and awe inspiring at once. He wished they had traveled this way on their journey to the castle, but Sebastian would never have done that. Grell wasn't even sure what the difference now was, but Sebastian was not the same. He hoped it would remain so, paralleling the thought with the unending fear that he would show it all to be a lie.
